


Between

by Starkissed1



Series: No Room for Perfection [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Thor, M/M, POV Alternating, Painslut!Loki, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 18:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkissed1/pseuds/Starkissed1
Summary: In the space between breaths, that was where this existed.Such a space extends when one attempts to hold onto it. You become lightheaded and without a doubt you will pass out for claiming it. How does one determine, if that little death is worth the effort?Loki was terrified.





	Between

The library was silent at this time of night. 

Loki wandered amongst the shelves, the scents of leather and paper calming his tortured thoughts. It is odd how things continue as they always have. Days start and end. Governing moves forward at its glacial pace. Dinner is served and cleared away. When you are a planner at heart, there is an expectation of continuance, that projects will move forward and be redirected when needed. 

Outside things continue, even when everything within has changed.

Having outgrown childish wishing, Loki understands his place. He is not the most-loved prince, nor do his methods inspire feasts and dancing. He is the strategist, he does what is needed outside of the limelight. He is dependable and the realm benefits from his skill. Sure, he sometimes gets involved in situations where he has not been invited. Perhaps he was needed and they just did not realize. Perhaps he was curious. Perhaps he deserved involvement. Perhaps he was bored. When you control the chaos, it does not sneak up on you so often. And people are usually extremely predictable.

For all the angles that Loki has been working, this was not planned. Thor had stepped outside of predictability. That, in itself, was interesting. 

Since they were young, the brothers had a long standing pattern. Loki created games and stories to entertain his brother. Loki loved it best when he could savor something new with his emotive brother, having Thor at his side made everything brighter. They had grand adventures as children: chasing dragons in the gardens, hunting for rats in the cellars, tracking sky giants as they moved the clouds through the sky. The pair was unstoppable. As they grew, their studies and their preferences took them apart. Loki wanted to spend his time exploring/learning/reading or with Thor. Thor wanted to be engaged in social activities and contests. Loki did not realize how much time he was choosing to pass over Thor (and his friends) until their preferences aligned again. Right now, Loki is basking in that preference.

He had just left Thor’s rooms. They seemed to be creating a new pattern. Though their days are always partially scripted, in the broad sweeps of unplanned time one would follow the other to their wing. More often than not, they would find themselves in Thor’s bed consumed by feverish want. And tender, caring Thor *wanted* with an unrelenting passion. Loki closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, focusing on the energy they had just shared. Thor’s hands ghosted against his flesh, hard, merciless. The large man now slept while Loki wandered, unable to calm his thoughts. 

His need to categorize and control did not know what to do with this. In the space between breaths, that was where this existed. Such a space extends when one attempts to hold onto it. You become lightheaded and without a doubt you will pass out for claiming it. How does one determine, if that little death is worth the effort?

Loki was terrified. This was not him making a grand idea of theirs actually happen. This was Thor taking over, Thor laying claim to these feats of desire. Loki was completely enraptured and he was drowning. To this moment, his only response has been to dive deeper. He needed to find his balance before he lost it all.

The spaces between are filled with possibilities. Between two things one finds their similarities and their differences. Between two actions, one finds a million successes and an equal number of failures. This is where seidr lives. Between is the balance, the tightrope walked by the seidmadr--though walked is not the right word. Masters string their own lines, dancing along and among these filaments of connection. Life on one side, death on the other; hope and despair; love and apathy. Between two brothers…

What occurs between lovers is so fragile. What was he thinking? Obviously, he was not. There's that selfish want again. And why should Loki not get what he wants? Because that is not the way things work. Getting what he wants requires argument, suffering, generally some form of trickery, and ultimately receiving a version of his desire that is a shade or two different than expected. Things come so easily to Thor (stuff that jealousy down). Yet, perhaps that is the solution, give it all over to his brother. 

Yielding is not a comfortable position, but there is a rather insistent thought that surrender is precisely what he wants. Less than an hour past, he thrilled to be pushed face first into the mattress, Thor’s hand spread on his back, holding Loki there. There's the crux of it all, Thor’s desire seems to parallel his own. Now, how to solidify such an arrangement… 

**********  
They were seated in Thor’s rooms. Evening had fallen. Loki twists a glass in his hand. Thor had closed his eyes at his brother’s last statement. While he considers the idea, Loki waits. Thor’s skin glows in the firelight. His throat shifts and Loki thinks about kissing it, about the taste of golden skin on his tongue. 

“You want to be bound.” Thor repeats the request, raising his gaze to his brother’s as Loki searches the repetition for purpose. “You seethe when you are not in charge of something important. How can this be what you want?” There truly is just confusion in his question. 

Loki’s smile grows. This is ground he has already traversed and eventually, Thor will come to the same conclusion. “Brother, what makes you think that if you tie me up, I’m not in control?” Loki sets the glass aside, standing. There are only a few steps to Thor’s chair and Loki presses his knees to the corners of the cushion, straddling Thor. “You would simply be doing as I asked. Though grant me this and I shall ask for more.”

To Loki’s amusement, Thor is fighting to stay present in the conversation. He keeps his eyes focused on Loki’s face. Dealing with distracting shifts in his lap, his touch is light and easy. He brushes his hands along Loki’s thighs, over hips and slips his fingers under the silk top his brother is wearing. His fingertips caress cool skin then slide back down as he holds a cheek in each hand. “What more do you want, brother?”

Timed with his brother’s caress, Loki runs his hands up Thor’s arms to cradle his head, bending forward to join their lips. Loki has no wish to remain calm and focused. He suggests with his touch, begs with his kiss. They separate and Loki answers breathily, “Only everything, I want all of you, all of us.” His every sense is filled with Thor and so emboldened, Loki continues, “Let me show you.” He brings his forehead to touch his brother’s.

Thor’s thoughts are overtaken. He is bombarded with scenes of the two men: his hands in Loki’s hair; Loki’s lips upon his cock; his brother arching back into his release. The colors fracture in his head as he relives this time they have spent together. Some viewpoints are Thor’s, some are Loki’s. There are sensations that do not belong to him: a sharp pain at teeth; the calm that follows being placed and held; a sweet ache that builds to climax. Thor chases each with an answering need: the heat that rises to hear that scream for more; the desire to keep Loki still as he writhes; the longing to be buried deep within. Hard need, strength of passion, and this all-consuming want flow through them both.

Loki shivers as the memories leave him with a sense of urgency, he pulls his head away. For a moment, Thor has forgotten how to breathe. His chest pounds with the lack of air. Finally, he draws in deeply and curls his fingers into the flesh he was holding. Loki gasps.

He brings a hand to the back of Loki’s head, fingers threaded in dark locks. Thor renews his claim upon pink lips. For that was the intention of melding their thoughts, to invite this possession. Loki does not voice his deep desire--to be owned, to submit here and now. Thor’s proud brother would not admit such out loud and at this point the words no longer matter. They have an understanding. From that first kiss in the training ring, Loki has made him work for every moment, never quite sure how much he could take even as Loki teased and pleaded for more. With this new insight, Thor takes. Pushing into his brother’s mouth, demanding with tongue and teeth and breath.

Pausing from devouring Loki’s kisses, Thor growls, “Clothes. Now.” Loki lifts his head, his eyes blown wide, sharp cheeks beautifully pink. He nods and draws a hand down Thor’s back. There is a slight shimmer and there are no more barriers between the two. Kisses resume and there is more purpose to each shift. With flesh exposed and open, when one man moves the other groans and gasps. So much to touch, to claim, to mark. 

Thor knows that this wish--call it hope, call it yearning--this wish can be granted. There are no complex stratagem that Loki is demanding. He always has at least 12 specific steps to be followed for a thing to happen, or rue the day you crossed him. But here, in this moment, Thor can simply take his immaculate brother apart. Loki even handed him all the tools to do it. Thor resolves to break him.

Thor pulls Loki’s head back, forcing his chest to arch. Thor ducks forward and sucks a nipple between his lips and then his teeth. Loki hisses and rocks his hips, nails digging into Thor’s shoulders. Thor leaves teeth marks on both sides of Loki’s chest. He is beautiful like this, far beyond the composed, dignified image that his brother projects. This is not refined elegance. This is tight muscles quivering, nerves exposed, a flush painting his brother’s pale skin. Thor swallows, he craves more.

“Clasp your hands behind your back and keep them there.” Maintaining his hold in Loki’s hair, Thor draws him in for another kiss. He opens to Thor’s seeking tongue as if it carried a promise of salvation. Loki succumbs to such sweet assurance.

With a single hand, Thor covers both of Loki’s, pulling his hips forward. Hard need grinds together. Thor’s kisses are peppered with bites, along his brother’s lips and neck. Holding Loki exactly where he needs to be at each moment. Loki pushes into him, augmenting the contact at every point.

Thor drags him backwards by his head and hands. “Kneel before me.”

Loki manages to delicately step from the chair, even bent to Thor’s hold. Thor retains his purchase in dark tresses, but releases his brother’s hands. Loki keeps them clasped as he sinks to the floor. He licks his lips as Thor draws him closer.

“Loki,” even hushed, Thor’s deep voice holds a note of command. Green eyes look up.

Thor smiles, there is passion writ large along his brother’s features. Thor takes his thumb and rubs over Loki’s lips where they glisten. They part, the thumb sliding over his teeth, pulling the jaw open. Thor holds tightly under his chin.

“You are mine, brother.” Loki cannot nod, but Thor feels him try. “Mine to use, to fill, to tame.” Loki’s eyes close as he draws a deep breath. Thor moves quickly, withdrawing his thumb, striking Loki’s cheek with his open palm. 

His brother’s focus swims and then his gaze turns up once more. “Yours,” he agrees unreservedly.

Enraptured, Loki parts his lips as his brother brings them together. Thor sighs to be encased in such warmth, silvertongue put to good use. He has a specific goal here and it is not tender. His grip tightens and he thrusts. Loki’s eyes fly open wide. Thor does it again, forcing his brother’s lips wide, demanding more access. Once there, he holds Loki still, little thrusts hit the back of his throat.

“Brother,” Thor pulls him back, lips smacking as they release. “I like you this way.” Thor stands from his seat. “Wanton, needy, quiet.”

Loki whines as Thor pulls him to standing, grip still firm on his head. “Perhaps not so quiet,” Thor laughs and pushes Loki towards the couch, releasing him. 

“I want that ass in the air.” The crack that punctuates the statement also leaves a bright pink handprint on half of the pale backside in question. The stumble is slight, the force of the blow just enough to throw those long legs off balance. Thor grins as Loki’s grasp behind his back tightens, shoulder muscles contract when he fails to throw his arms out. Loki cautiously kneels and lowers his chest to the cushion. He lays his head on its side to watch Thor approach.

“You know,” says Thor, settling one hand over Loki’s again. “I think this is a nice alternative to bound--you maintaining a restriction because you’ve been told to do so.”

His free hand caresses the cheek sporting the warm print. Thor raises the hand and brings it down on the other side. Loki rocks and lets loose a squeak.

“Don’t you think that’s nice brother?” Another crack sounds in the room.

“Yes.” The immediate response is sharp, coming through gritted teeth, Loki’s cheek shoved against the fabric. He breathes. “Yes.” The second affirmation arrives with less force, a drunken concession. Thor wonders if his brother even knows what he's agreeing to. There is so much potential in this broad acquiescence. 

Thor grabs Loki’s jaw and pushes him back upright. Loki is struggling for focus, continuing to flounder when a fist encircles his length. Thor strokes him slowly, placing a light kiss on parted lips. 

“Yes. Very nice brother." Proclamations arrive among kisses and caresses. "And you’ll give me more.” Loki physically nods this time, regaining an ability to comprehend. Thor runs his thumb over the head of Loki’s cock, drawing through the gathered drops. Bringing them to his own lips, he watches Loki follow every movement. 

“Good, because I’m not nearly done with you.” Thor grasps the back of Loki’s neck and shoves him to the cushions once again. Thor turns away, leaving Loki posed: shoulder and head braced forward, back arched with his hands clasped above it, hard cock hanging below. 

Returning with the bottle of oil already opened, Thor pours some over his brother’s offered backside, bringing fingers through the drips that run free. Two fingers press against indented flesh, making their way between. Loki’s breath hitches as Thor slowly stretches him. Fingers scissor and pull. Loki whimpers, pushing back. 

Thor slaps his ass again. “Patience brother, you’ll be good and fucked soon enough.”

Loki stills, closing his eyes to his brother’s ministrations. Thor pours a bit more oil over his fingers, allowing the drips to slip inside before he withdraws and slides slicked fingers over his cock. He watches Loki’s chest rise and fall, anticipation riding them both. Patience is no longer a luxury, it is torture.

Thor brings one knee beside his brother’s and presses his cockhead into incredible tightness. Initial connection made, he gathers one breath and thrusts, pulling Loki back by his arms. His brother yells, his upper half rising. Thor does not wait, he thrusts again. It takes several attempts until his brother is seated properly.

Holding them tightly joined, Thor growls, “I love to listen to you.” Loki’s rapid breath catches as Thor rocks them. Thor’s grasp clings to one slim hip, the other holding tight to his brother’s wrists. Loki cycles through tension and relaxation several times. With that encouragement, Thor separates them some and plunges back in. Loki’s cries are rich and full as his brother takes his pleasure at a vicious pace.

Loki knows that this pain is not pleasure, except that it is and he is flying. Thor has him held up, hinging forward on his knees, impaled. Sharp sensations vie for his attentions: Thor’s hand crushing his wrists, fingers dug into his hip, his cock bouncing free in front of him, the pounding he is pulled to every second. He is suffocating in this barrage and he can’t stop it, he doesn’t want to. Loki screams as he comes, white flashes in front of his eyes.

Thor rides his brother’s orgasm, slowing to grant him that moment. Loki’s screams are delightful. Thor knows he’s just going to take just a bit more from Loki. As he relaxes, Thor releases his hold and allows his brother to slump forward. 

Slow, deep thrusts continue and Thor’s calm words bring his brother around to awareness.

“You are beautiful, my beloved. Beautiful and mine. Each mark,” Thor’s fingers are lightly tracing over Loki’s skin, “Each mark is mine.” Loki shivers and tenses. Thor cannot take much more of the continued constriction. He presses into Loki again, holding him still at the top of a thrust. “You are... mine.” Thor spills into his brother.

**  
Serenity finds the two laid out upon that same couch, neither wanted to go elsewhere. Thor lies upon his back, Loki curled along a golden side, pressed into the furniture. They trade light caresses. Though Loki often decries tenderness, he accepts it on these occasions. Loki raises his chin from Thor’s shoulder.

“Do you trust me?” Loki’s concentration is intense. He could no longer postpone gravity of thought from claiming this moment.

“My mischievous brother,” Though Loki has gone completely still, Thor still runs a touch along his brother’s side. Thor angles towards him and settles the other hand behind his brother’s neck, thumb brushing his cheek. “This is the question you land on? I give you my entirety and you accept it all--sometimes humbly, at times with denunciation, and sometimes in loud celebration. Of course, I trust you. Surely you see this.” 

Loki bristles, he tastes the honesty in all those pieces and he regards the vagaries. Thor could be referencing anything from diplomatic missions to these new arrangements. No, that’s not what he should have asked, Loki hates being hounded by insecurities. He glances away from his brother's keen gaze, not even sure he can continue. Thor hears the thought in his head, 

_and now?_ Since they were children, Loki could speak to him without voicing the words aloud.

Though Loki seems poised to leave, Thor continues to hold them together, as if attempting to physically cast shadow on these doubts. “I have neither done nor said anything I now repent. Perhaps brother, you tell me what specifically you want me to confirm.”

Thor’s rumble is reassuring, his touch doubly so. Loki is as rooted as he can be, and still his voice shakes to make hushed demands. “Tell me this is not a passing triumph. Tell me what you intend.” 

“My intent, beloved, is pursuit.” He kisses Loki’s forehead. “You cannot think to give me a taste of you and that I would be sated. No, brother, you asked for everything, if it be in my power I would give it. Stay. Be mine.”

Loki relaxes somewhat. Tucking back into the embrace, he echoes the thought,

_Yours._

It is a false hope, the promise of love. He allows Thor’s confidence to bathe the space between them in sunshine and Loki wants to believe in promises. The heat of such a star may burn him yet. For now, he will belong.

**Author's Note:**

> The series tag is just to keep my little world together. The stories are pieces of this relationship. They are not in timeline order and can be read independently. As always, our silver-tongued prince is responsible for any further incursions in his realm.


End file.
